Anime Royale
by EndComplete
Summary: A sequel to Battle Royale using characters from 21 various sources. Check my profile for more info.
1. Prolouge

Government Internal Memo 1999, No. 00497863 (Top Secret)

Dispatched by Central Authority Secretariat Special Task Force Defense Supervisor, Battle Experiment Advisor of the Special Defense Army, and Central Scientific Secretariat of Experimental Research.

To: All Supervisors in Charge of Upcoming Scheduled Battle Experiment Programs for the years of 1999 and 2000.

It has been decided that Battle Experiment No. 68 Program will hereby be modified by the following changes, in accordance with a decision to alter the methods and purpose of the program. All task force members authorized to view Top Secret level information for the Battle Experiment program are to be informed of the following changes.

1. Battle Experiment No. 68 Program will be combined with Scientific Research Program No. 13, known as Aryan Project. Brigadier General Gendo Ikari will be given authority over the combined project, which shall henceforth be referred to as Special Cooperative Experiment No. 4. A complete rearrangement of the official chain of command will soon follow in a separate memo.

2. The selection process will be altered. 49 junior high school classes will be selected randomly per year as normal, to take place in an unchanged Battle Experiment No. 68. In addition, 30 students will be selected from one of the Special Exempt Zones (see File No. 00197863, Top Secret) based on the personal choice of the head research staff for the Aryan Project. These students will all be taken from the same school, but may be taken from any grade from seven to twelve. The results of this test will not be reported publicly.

3. Supervision of the Special Exempt Zone Battle Experiment will be overseen by Brig. Gen. Ikari as head of the Aryan Project, as well as subject Code Name Zero. Brig. Gen. Ikari will be given complete authority over the Experiment, and may intervene at any time. His decisions in this matter are not to be questioned.

-Addendum-

According to a report by the Special Security Department, there have been signs that a possible anti-government organization, possibly with foreign backing, may have infiltrated some level of the combined Aryan Program. As such, the decision was made to postpone the Project until these rumors could be investigated. However, the decision has since been overruled, and the Program will go forth as planned.

All agents involved are advised to be watchful for any suspicious behavior, and to report any possible threats immediately to Brig. Gen. Ikari personally.

This information is to be classified top secret and is to be treated as such.


	2. Chapter 1

Start Game

1

The sun was setting far to the east, the sky a pale and deadened yellow fading to gray, filled with the sounds of chirping cicadas. Out to the east, across the long, airy cemetery filled with identical white markers set in even rows, fields of wheat blown by the wind faded off into the horizon. From the opposite direction came the sounds of cars and trucks roaring by on the highway. Standing in front of a white pristine grave marker, set in an arbitrary row of the vast memorial yard, stood Shinji Ikari (Male Student No. 2, Second Year Class C, Kurikawa Junior High School). He stood dry eyed but darkened, his face down turned and shadowed, his eyes lingering on the name that was engraved on the marker before him:

Yui Ikari.

1966-1993

Since she had died, he had never come here alone, as he was now, but he found himself enjoying it far more than he had last time- and dreading the company he knew was soon coming. Since his mother's death in an undisclosed accident (Shinji had never been told how she had died, and he had never asked for an explanation. In the Republic of Greater East Asia, asking questions was never a good idea, and he had known that just as much as a child of eight as he did now), he had come here twice with his father, and on the last occurrence he had run away, refusing to come back with, and had never stepped foot here again. He had not seen his father since, and for the most part, had never wanted to. At least, he thought he didn't want to. Now, as he waited for him to appear as suddenly as the letter _ordering _him to meet here on the anniversary of his mother's death had arrived unanticipated, his thoughts chased each other around and around in an endless circle, redundantly going through the same questions and anxious fears as the dozen's of times before.

Hoping to take his mind off the subject, Shinji reached into his pocket and took out his Mini-Disk player, an old, outdated piece of equipment he had been using for years. Before he could play it though, a sound from behind caught his attention. It was the soft but insistent roar of an expensive engine, much more subtle than the strained whine of the public bus Shinji had ridden here. He turned around.

A peach colored military car, small and compact like any domestic vehicle, pulled to a stop at the empty parking lot overlooking the cemetery. Instantly the back door opened and a tall, wide shouldered man in a military uniform stepped out. As he had throughout all of Shinji's life, Gendo Ikari, his father, moved much to fast to allow for mental rehearsal. He strode immediately down the steps leading to the cemetery and walked crisply towards his wife's grave.

"Shinji. You've come." His voice was as soft as a concrete pillow, layered with tones of impatience and hints of disapproval.

"Y-yes. Father. I wanted to…" Shinji said, avoiding his eyes. "To see mom."

"You did not reply." Gendo Ikari said, speaking of the letter he, or more likely his secretary, had sent his son after four years of silence. "I was certain you'd run away again."

"I came." Shinji said, slightly defiant. His father did not respond. Silent, they stared at the grave for several minutes. Shinji's tilted his eyes sideways, staring at his father, but his expression was inscrutable behind his dark glasses. Since he'd last seen him, he'd grown a proper beard, rather than the errant stubble he'd worn as a younger man. _Mom always used to bug him about that…_

"It's been three years since we last came here together." His father said. Another man might have said, "you've grown so much" or "I wish I'd come sooner," or maybe even, "I've missed you." Gendo said none of these- he was a man of very few words.

"Yeah. I've always wanted to come back. But I never…" He trailed off. _Never wanted to come alone._

"I've avoided this place as well." His father said. "This grave is an artifice, nothing more. There is no body here. Yui never even set foot in this place. It does little to remind me of who she was. I've thrown away every photograph I had."

"No pictures?" Shinji asked

"None. I keep my memories of her in my heart. I'm satisfied with that." He said. Again, there was a stretch of silence.

"Um, father?" Shinji asked. "Why did you want me to come here today? After all this time?"

"Yui taught me something very important long ago." He said, almost as if he hadn't heard Shinji at all. "I came here to affirm that memory, so that I could keep it at hand in the days to come. I thought _you _may have something similar. Something you needed to remember." A memory flashed through Shinji's mind. _I mustn't run away._

"Yeah. I do have something." He said.

"Shinji, our time is up. I'm leaving." Shinji turned in surprise, but was more shocked by his next words. "I will be seeing you again, soon." He turned to return to his car.

"F-father!" Shinji called. He stopped, and turned around. "It was good to talk with you." Was all he could think of to say.

"Indeed." Gendo said, and continued on to his car. Shinji watched, torn between shouting after him or turning back to the grave, when a slender figure stepped out of the car. _Wha-? A girl? _He stared. A young girl, fourteen years old, had stepped out of the car and was opening the door for his father. She was extremely thin, dressed in a familiar looking school uniform, staring at Gendo with a warm smile on her face. Her skin was pale, almost white in the summer sun, and her hair, as well, was soft and colorless, with a hint of blue. She looked foreign, exotic, strange and yet extremely familiar in some unexplainable way.

_That's her. _Shinji thought. He had heard, years ago, after he had run away and refused to return to his father, that he had adopted another child, a girl by the name of Rei Ayanami. He had never seen her, but he had always wondered: what kind of child would make a man like his father happy? What sort of child had he replaced his own son with? A breeze suddenly blew between them, and something made the girl glance in his direction. Their eyes met.

Her smile had vanished, replaced by a look that was cold, silent, empty and meaningless. Her face was like that of a lifelike doll's- exquisite, beautiful crafted, but utterly devoid of any spark of human warmth. She was looking at him, Shinji realized, as one looks at a bug about to be squashed, with cold, detached indifference. Before he could respond, she turned away and slid into the seat beside her (his) father and pulled shut the door.

The car drove away, leaving him alone but for the sound of cicadas.

**32 Students Remaining. **


	3. Chapter 2

**2**

Shinji rose blearily out of sleep, his consciousness slowly rising up in waves. His first impression was of confusion at the loud sound of an irritating electronic bleating. It was obviously an alarm clock, carefully designed to make the sleeper wriggle in discomfort until they gathered the resolve to rise and silence it. His first _thought _was that it did not sound anything like the alarm clock at his current home. He opened his eyes wide, and rolled onto his back. Above him loomed an unfamiliar ceiling.

As if it had noticed he was awake, the blaring alarm cut off in mid beep. Shinji sat up, staring uncomprehendingly at the room around him.

He sat on a large bed raised high off the floor. The walls were all stark and white, empty. Across the room, a metal door stood next to an inner window, revealing a dark hallway beyond. On the other side, a window let in the light of the moon and a street lamp illuminating a wide space between several buildings. Another door, partly opened, showed the way to a bathroom just across from his bed. Next to this door was a small bench, containing his school bag and a larger gray duffle bag. Above them, mounted on the wall, was a noticeably outdated television. The room was dimly lit; dust covered every surface, and small bits of trash lay undisturbed in the corners. Shinji had been in enough hospital rooms to recognize one, even if it appeared to be abandoned.

_How did I get here? Was I in some kind of accident? _He stepped off the bed. There were no covers on it, and he was still fully dressed in his school uniform, even his shoes were still on his feet. He walked to the inner window and looked out. His eyes widened. The hospital was deserted. Only every other light was lit, giving it the feeling of a morgue. Outside in the hall, he could the see main hub for the floor, but behind the desks most of the equipment was missing. There was no sound. His heart beating fast now, anxiety rising, he rushed to the other side of the room, and pushed up against the outside window.

He was high up, on the third or fourth floor. Below him, he could spot an area as large as two or three athletic fields, set between the hospital and two other large buildings. Most of the space was taken up by a parking lot, but nearer to the hospital was a small park with benches and flowers, between the lot and the ambulance drive. There was a street cutting between the parking lot and the far buildings. No one was in sight. The two buildings beyond were dark, though a few small lights burned in their windows. The one on the right looked like it was some multi level department store. The building to the left was smaller, and had the look of a small office park. Beyond that…

_There are no lights. _He realized. Out past the two buildings, there was a notable strip of blackness between the single street lamp and the far off city lights. Although it was only an unlit area, it gave the impression of a huge wall, a clear obstacle marking him off from the rest of society. _What's going on? _Thoughtlessly, he wandered, ending up in bathroom. He turned on the sink, splashed his face with some cold water, and sighed. When he raised his head, he saw something glinting in the mirror.

A small metal collar was secured around his neck.

His hands flew to it, he scratched at it desperately, his image in the mirror a pale white ghost with eyes wide with terror. He tugged, felt his nails scratching against his throat, but the collar did not budge. It was just exactly the right size so that it could not be removed- it was not tight, but the instant he realized he could not remove it he began to feel as if he were breathing through a straw, the collar felt as heavy as concrete. He gave up, staring at himself in the mirror with complete and utter confusion. Someone had brought him here. Someone had put this _thing _on his neck. And then they had left him? Could he leave now? He left the bathroom and strode immediately to the door, shoving it in his haste to get out.

The door was securely locked.

"Attention." He leaped with shock at the sudden sound of the voice, then gasped as he stumbled backwards. The voice had come from behind him. He whirled around. The TV had come on, lighting up the gloomy room.

His father's face was on it.

**32 Students Remaining. **


	4. Chapter 3

**3**

"Attention, everyone. I am Brigadier General Gendo Ikari. I well be personally overseeing the matter you have all been selected for, and I will be explaining to you what is happening now-"

"Father!" Shinji shouted. Gendo Ikari, on the screen, did not react. _Everyone? _Shinji's hearing caught up to him. _He's speaking to others then, too… _Out of the corner of his eye, Shinji caught a change in the environment. Through the window to his room, across the hallway, he could make out another window, a similar room opposite his. Inside, he could see the faint blue-white glow of another TV screen. Within the gloom, he could just barely spot the shadowy silhouette of another person. _There are other people here? _He thought. Above, his father was still speaking.

"-been selected for the Program." Shinji stared at it, his face showing a complete and total lack of belief. It was not that he was unaware of what he was saying. It was that he could not believe that this was actually happening to him.

The Greater Republic of East Asia, the worlds only shining example of _successful fascism,_ the country in which his father had risen to a rank of such status, employed, in the word's of it's Great Dictator, a "conscription system unique to our country." Unique was right, because The Program, as it was called, was a solid testimony to mankind's predilection for insanity. Every student, every child growing up in the Greater Republic learned of the Program early and spent the rest of their childhood putting it out of their minds. After all, being selected for the Program was like being struck by lightning- it was random, it was extremely unlikely, statistically, and if it happened, you could do absolutely nothing about it. For that purpose, Shinji, like everyone else, had avoided thinking about it.

The Program, officially known as Battle Experiment No. 68 Program, was extremely simple. Chosen at random by prefecture, 50 junior high school classes were picked, then the students in these classes were abducted and taken to a closed off location. Then the students were given weapons, and ordered to kill each other. The game, as it was referred to by those in the "business" of it's arrangement, went on until only one survivor was left. Ostensibly, this was done for the purpose of "gathering data." No explanation for exactly what kind of "data" was being gathered, or why it was necessary to slaughter over 2000 children in order to gather it was ever released.

The Program gathered no data. The Program served no purpose. The Program was not a Means, but an Ends in and of itself. The meaning was not in the helpless students who went, terrified and hate filled, to their deaths, but in the effect it had on those who survived. The Program was no secret. The instant each "game" was completed, it's outcome, including the grisly statistics of how many killed-specifying each gory method- were announced almost enthusiastically to the public, beamed into every television station, interrupting every radio broadcast of government sanctioned music. Everyone heard the news. Everyone saw the bloodstained winner. And everyone felt, deep down inside, a cold and certain feeling that your own country was full of madmen, was infected, down to it's very core, with a streak of insanity so prevalent you would be uncertain that anything could ever change that. If it was even possible to change. And, as a result of this revelation, you quickly came to the conclusion that, since this country was insane, it's people were insane, and therefore, you could trust no one. You could rely only on yourself. A pointless, self destructive system spreading fear and distrust to the populace. _That _was the purpose of the Program.

That is what Brigadier General Gendo Ikari had said, speaking gravely, but with passion, at the dinner table with his wife Yui, on a night Shinji, 8 years old and scared from a nightmare, had descended the stairs to find his mother. Hearing the serious tone, he had stopped at the door, quietly listening, not understanding everything he heard, then, but knowing intrinsically that what he was hearing was important and that his parents would not welcome him coming in at that time. In the end, he had slipped back into bed without talking to his parents. As he lay in bed, waiting for sleep, that had been the first night Shinji had ever truly thought about the possibility of dying. As he grew older, as he began to see the news reports every year of a new batch of Programs, he would always think back on that overheard conversation, on the deep glimpse he had been given into the psyche of his father.

And now, that same man, who had expressed such disgust, such revulsion at the idea of the Program's existence, was announcing to his own son and who knew how many other children, that they were all going to die pointlessly. How could he have possibly gone from that night at the kitchen table to this?

"I will not apologize for the situation you are all now in." Gendo Ikari said. "My own feelings on the matter, any apologies I might give, would be meaningless and completely irrelevant. Suffice it to know that none of us has any choice in this matter. Whatever you may want, you are going to participate in this Program. It is unavoidable. If you wish to live, there is only one possibility of success. Kill, before you are killed. Think, be smarter than your opponents. Survive. That is all the advice I can give to you."

"In the case of this particular Program, there will be some changes from the previous years. All of the students chosen are from the combination school of Kurikawa Academy. Rather than selecting a single class as a whole, the decision has been made to select 32 students from all years of the Junior High School and High School portions of Kurikawa academy. You will now see on the screen the list of students selected. Number 1 Male Student, 1st Year Junior High, Koji Minamoto. Number 1 Female Student, 2nd Year Junior High, Lain Iwakura. Number 2 Male Student, 2nd Year Junior High, Shinji Ikari…" As he rattled off the names, pictures of the students, obviously taken right off of their school ID cards, appeared on the screen. Shinji stared at his own picture, the expression on the card his usual dorky smile he could never seem to avoid using for pictures. A shiver ran up his spine. When he'd pronounced his name, his voice hadn't changed at all. _He knows I'm here._ Shinji thought. _And he doesn't care. _

"…Number 5 Female Student, 1st Year High, Mamimi Samejima. Number 6 Male Student, 2nd Year Junior High, Yugi Mutou." The screen showed first an older girl with pronounced lips and dyed hair. He'd seen her, wandering the grounds between the Junior and High school areas, but knew nothing about her. The next was weird little Yugi from his own class, a fifteen year old who looked about twelve, with ridiculously maintained hair spiked into some kind of star shape. He always wore a huge Egyptian puzzle around his neck, and never talked about anything but games.

"Number 8 Male Student, 2nd Year Junior High, Yukio Tanaka." And that was Koyuki from the class across the hall, a raspy voiced rock fan who everyone said looked just like Shinji. He was learning to play the guitar. "Number 9 Female Student, 2nd Year Junior High, Yuki Sonada." Another from his class, a cute, outspoken girl who was by no means a trouble maker but was known to shoplift. And after her came Yoh Asakura, a long haired, friendly slacker who excelled at kendo. Then came the upperclassmen Hiiragi twins, Kagami and Tsubasa, as different as night and day, but both shrine maidens at the shrine their family maintained. And Hajaki Sanada, the irritable guy who only cared about working and making money. Shinji, besides the situation, found his spirits rising as their pictures flashed before him. They were all decent, ordinary kids. None of them were killers. There was no way any of them would consent to play this twisted game.

And then different faces started to show. He saw the ever smiling face of Azula, the strange girl with the makeup and the foreign name. In her 2nd year class, she led a group of girl delinquents, performing all manner of crimes with the same nonchalant manner that she flirted with the teachers. She always seemed confident, composed, but there was a look in her eyes like she was considering stabbing you with her pencil just to see your reaction. Shinji was in a different class than hers, but he still had heard the expression "Azula always lies."

And then there was Makoto Ogami, whose father had committed a gruesome suicide involving cutting his eyes like a sunny side egg. He was an angry, aggressive boy who had once been caught on school grounds with a six inch long combat knife, and had quickly and almost effortlessly won the few fights he had become entangled in during his years at Kurikawa. And then there was the student who had transferred into the final year in the High School at the start of the year, Shoya Nanakawa. He was muscular, tall, and imposing. Anyone who tried to start a conversation with him was met with icy hostility. Shinji had heard members of the high school basketball team talking about seeing him in the locker room- he had had several scars on his body, several that looked like they had been made by _bullets._ Seeing these kind of students on the list…well, they were just students too, surely they wouldn't actually kill anyone would they? Of course, thousands of them did, every year. That was what this thing was all _about. _

And then, all of his thoughts were blown away, and he ceased thinking about the other students. On the screen was a picture of a girl he had never seen at school, but who he nevertheless instantly recognized. Pale, albino skin. A frigid but beautiful face, oddly familiar, surrounded by a bob cut of pale hair. Eyes, empty of expression, a faint dark red color, like wine, or dried blood. He had seen her only once, three months ago, on the day he had seen his father. The girl who had opened the door for him, smiling. Gendo Ikari announced her name, without the ado of class room affiliation or student number:

"Rei Ayanami."

**32 Students Remaining. **

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_Thanks to AlsoSprachOdin for the pointing out the typos. Chapter 4 (and possibly 5, I seem to do these two at a time for some reason) should be up by next Friday (June 5th). _


	5. Chapter 4

**4**

Oblivious to his son's shock, Brig. Gen. Gendo Ikari continued speaking.

"I will now explain the rules for this Operation. My predecessors have chosen to refer to this Program as a game. Perhaps it will help you to think of it as such. First of all, there are no violations. Any course of action you choose to follow will be considered valid, aside from attempting to escape the designated areas. As you will be killing each other, you have all been provided with a weapon. These weapons have been assigned to you at random. In your starting area each of you will find a bag (Shaking off his shock at the sight of Ayanami's face, Shinji glanced towards the bag sitting next to his own school bag). Each bag contains food, water, and your weapon. The rations provided will not last you more than a few meals, so it is in your interest to finish the challenge quickly."

Shinji unzipped the bag with morbid interest. Inside the bag was a some bread, a few energy bars, and a bottle of water. There was also a small silvery object, flat and about 15 centimeters long. He pulled it out. It was a box cutter. He extended the blade- it was only about half as long as the handle. _This is my weapon? A worthless thing like this? _Shinji was shocked at his own thoughts. It's not like he was planning on actually using it of course… but what if someone tried to kill him? How could he defend himself with something like this?

"Inside the bag you will also find a map of the chosen area, a compass, a watch, and a list of your fellow competitors names." Ikari continued. "For the purposes of this 'game,' and area of 3 square kilometers has been blocked off from the rest of the city. In fact, we have evacuated everyone within ten blocks in every direction from this area, but the 3 kilometers contains the area you are capable of moving in. This area contains several buildings, including the hospital most of you are currently in. As you can see on your maps, the outside areas between the buildings are divided into equidistant grids. (Shinji dug in further, found the map. Just as he said, the map was divided into various areas, labeled A1 through E6) There is also a cross section of each building, showing it's floors, which have also been designated as a specified area (the hospital was labeled as Building H, and had four levels, H1-H4. The department building across the lot was also marked, listed as DS1-3. The office park was O1-O3). You will need to pay careful attention to these areas, because starting in one hour, one of these zones will be chosen at random every 6 hours. (Shinji lifted the watch out of the bag- it was a few minutes past 5 A.M. now, so that meant a zone would be chosen at 6:00, 12:00, 18:00, and 24:00. Wait, chosen for what?) Once chosen, this area will become a Forbidden Zone." Gendo paused after the ominous term, then continued.

"By now, you will all have noticed the collars around your necks. If you wish to survive long enough to have a chance at this contest, you will avoid trying to remove them (Shinji gulped, trying to ignore the feeling of the cool steel against his neck). These collars are all equipped to perform several functions. They monitor all of your life functions, transmit your location to us, and they are filled with an explosive chemical. If you enter into a Forbidden Zone, or you attempt to remove them, they will explode (Shinji, who had been lightly fingering he collar, pulled his hand away as if burnt). Please note that a temporary fence has been erected around the entire edge of your map- even one step outside of this fenced in area will also cause your collar to explode. Even if you were not wearing these collars, the perimeter of the competition area is being guarded by heavily armed soldiers, so give up any thought of escape now. If no one dies within twenty four hours of the last death, the contest will be designated a failure and every last collar will automatically explode. Your only chance to survive is to kill until you are the only one left."

"And now, starting in just a few moments, we will begin unlocking the doors that are holding you, one by one, chosen at random, at a rate of one every 3 minutes. As soon as your door is unlocked, the 'game' will officially start. Anyone you see is your enemy. All but one of you must die for this all to end. You cannot trust anyone in this game. You mustn't back down. You mustn't run away. You may think that this is all some kind of joke, that you can get out of it somehow. You can't. In the past 52 years, not once has The Program ended as a result of no one dying. That means in over 2500 instances, there has always been students willing to kill. Remember that. If you don't value your life, than do yourself a favor and end it right now."

"We will begin opening doors now."

Shortly thereafter, the screen flashed, showing the face and name of the first student to be set loose. It was Shoya Nanakawa, a seventeen year old boy with slightly long, slightly wavy hair. His eyes looked deep, and dark. Shinji remembered the rumors of bullet wounds seen in the locker room. A red illustration of a shut door appeared next to his face, then changed to green as it swung open. A countdown, starting at three minutes, appeared and began slowly decreasing. Shinji collapsed onto the bed, shaking. The box cutter was in his hands.

The second student to be released was Asuka Soryu. She was another girl in his class, fourteen years old but already well along the way to physical maturity. Her picture showed a bright, cheerful smile on an angelic face enclosed by a mass of auburn hair. Shinji's heart skipped as her picture appeared-for two reasons. One, ever since he had met her in the class, he had found himself drawn to her. Of all the girls in the class, in the school, she was the one who most held his attention. Despite this, he had barely ever spoken to her, and the times that he did mostly involved being ridiculed in front of an audience. The second reason his heart skipped was the realization that she was involved in this horrible game. His eyes widened, and his hands, holding the box cutter, shook more and more.

The minutes rolled by, and the faces continued on, down the line. Students familiar and unfamiliar, were shown, and, one by one, let loose into the killing field. After awhile, Shinji turned away. It was too horrible to see each of their faces and imagine them lying in a pool of blood, their bodies riddled with bullets. He found himself, staring, instead, at the window across the hall. The shadow silhouette had moved- it could no longer be seen. But the door was shut. Whoever they were, they must still be in there.

The door opened.

Shinji's breath caught in his throat as the silhouette stepped through the door frame. Rei Ayanami, her black bag slung over her shoulder, was standing across the hall, staring directly into his eyes from across the glass. His eyes moved down to her hands. She was carrying a Heckler & Koch MG4 machine gun.

He looked back to her eyes. As before, her face was expressionless…but for one tiny crack. As she looked into her eyes, he saw a slight twitch, a minute movement in her lips, an slight twist that may have been the ghost of a frown. Smoothly, in a single movement, she turned and walked away.

Shinji dropped the box cutter, lifted his legs up onto the bed, buried his face in his knees, and blocked everything out.

**32 Students Remaining. **


	6. Chapter 5

**5**

In a hospital room on the ground floor, a sixteen year old black haired boy spread out the contents of his bag on the hospital bed, checking them carefully. He was Male Student No. 14 in Class C, High School Year 1. He had a normal, boring name of the same sort you could find anyway, which he refused to use. The name he called himself, and that those who did not want to get on his bad side used, was Katana. Sitting on the bed in front of him was a box of 9mm ammunition, a total of 200 rounds. The gun, which he was carefully checking with a satisfied expression and a delicate, almost respectful touch, was a Beretta Semiautomatic M9 Pistol, glossy black, with a long, thick barrel.

For the last three years, since he'd begun getting involved with the local yakuza, first as a mere hanger on, then later as a trusted help, he'd been looking forward to receiving his first gun. A gun represented power over others. A gun was a key that could open any door- even if that door was a person. But guns were hard to come by in the Greater Republic of East Asia, and until now he'd had to make do with a cheap, poorly made Saturday Night Special that was nearly as likely to kill him as his enemy. But this… this gun was exactly what he'd always hoped for. He gripped it tight, feeling the cool metal fit perfectly in his palms. Carefully, he drew a bead on the face on the TV- it was Shinji Ikari, the sniveling, pitiful kid in Junior High Year 2. He lined it up, confident that he had him right between the eyes. He didn't fire. Katana had practiced over the years, in yakuza basements stuffed with foam on the walls to keep in the sound, but he did so as little as possible. Obviously, it was important to feel the kick of a gun, to feel how it worked first hand, but he detested target practice. Katana felt that the only time you should fire a gun was if you were really using it. Well, he'd be using it soon.

He paused, thinking about that. These were his fellow students he was expected to kill. However boring, pitiful, and unworthy they were, they were still basically innocent. They're deaths would not benefit him, and they did not, perhaps, deserve to die. One thing the yakuza had taught him, since he had been excepted as a junior member, was that killing was something to be done only under specific circumstances- If the killing benefited the organization. The yakuza did not kill indiscriminately. So far, Katana had never fired a gun in anger. And now…

_But it will benefit me. _He decided. _That man was quite clear. I have no choice in the matter. Its kill, or die. But that doesn't mean I have to act like a maniac. _He reasoned. There were, according to the list he'd been given, thirty two students participating in this game. If even half of them chose to kill, then that would reduce the number to sixteen, including him. Among those thirty two, there was certain to be at least one person who would truly decide to play- he had no doubt about that. Which meant, in all likelihood, the total count would be whittled down to five or six even if he did nothing.

_Then I'll play it safe. _He decided. He would move cautiously, avoid danger wherever possible, kill when given the chance, defend himself-and wait for the numbers to drop. When the last few students were left, he'd go on the hunt.

_And then, I'll be the winner._

On the TV, his name was called. There was a brisk electronic sound, and the door to his room slid open automatically.

Kallen Stadtfeld, High School Student in her second year, stretched in the hospital room on the second floor, ignoring the roll call going on on the TV. After working out the kinks in her muscles (being abducted and drugged for several hours did not leave her feeling particularly well rested) she took a red headband out of her school bag, which they had for some reason left her, and headed to the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror.

Tall and curvy. Athletically built. Deep brunette hair, hanging loosely to just about shoulder length. In her face, her partial British heritage showed, a result of a British delegate who'd been held in the Republic, partially as an ambassador and partly as hostage against one of the "barbaric societies of the west." Currently, her stunning face was portraying an expression of meekness and frailty- her school face, as she thought of it. Running some water through her hair, she pulled it back and tied up the head band, keeping her hair clear of her face. Her expression changed, becoming hard, determined, and cold.

_You fucking government swine. _She thought. _You evil, despicable monsters. You think I'll let you get away with this? You think I'll just die here!? _"ERGH!" Overcome by anger, she pulled back a long leg and slammed her foot into the mirror. It shattered, and a cascade of glass came pouring down around her functionable combat boot. She turned away, headed back into the room to check her weapon.

Unlike the other students, Kallen knew exactly why she had been "selected." Somehow, they had found out. Someone had talked, or they'd been watching her, or…it didn't matter. Someone knew.

Kallen had been born to a British father and a native mother, but she thought of both of them with a sort of mild, long ranged distaste. Growing up, it had been her brother Naoto who had raised her in every way that mattered. He had been the one who had taught her their countries history, it's hidden, deleted heritage. Of all the students in her class room, she was certain she was the only one who knew they're country's true name: Nippon. He had taught her the truth behind all of the government's lies, and he had taught her the real history of it's rise and atrocious rule. And he had introduced her to his friends, a group of hot blooded, patriotic men who actually had the guts to stand up and do something about the horrible world they lived in.

_And then they killed him. _She thought. It was just after she had joined their organization-well, forced her way in, in all honesty. The others in the squad all thought she was much to young to be a freedom fighter. She had laughed in their faces, and told them she would rather be dead than sit back and let the government do as they please. Even so, Naoto had insisted that day. They had gone on a mission- a bombing of a government building. An act of terrorism, by definition (So what? Every single action of the Greater East Asia Republic was an act of terrorism against it's own people. They fought back, in the name of Nippon, however they could). He had been adamant about her staying behind, and so, just out of respect for his feelings, she had stayed.

Naoto and the three others of his squad had been captured, and executed, their faces horribly bruised and bloody, on national TV. For weeks, Kallen had jumped at every shadow, certain that they were coming for her too, knowing that they would have tortured her brother for the information. And then slowly, as they did not come and she came to the realization that her brother had not talked, she had become overwhelmed by gratitude, knowing what sort of horrible agony Naoto and his friends had endured without giving in. And then had come the anger. They had killed those four brave, good men, and robbed her of her brother, the only family she truly loved. And so she swore that she would have revenge, one way or another.

She opened up the bag, took out her weapon- a small flail, about two feet long, a ball with little plastic spikes on the end. Someone's idea of a joke. She flung it against the wall as hard as she could. _You think I'll play your little game, follow your little rules?_ She thought. She dug into her pocket, pulled out a thick pink makeup kit (just the right color to fit in with her "school look"). Furiously, she squeezed it-and out of the end, a knife blade stuck out, four inches long. _I'll live, you bastards! I'll live, and I won't do it by your rules! You won't kill me like you did my brother!_

Her movements fueled by anger, she emptied her school bag and tossed everything of use into it (since it was smaller than the government provided one) and slung it over her shoulder. Then she walked over to the outside window and kicked hard, shattering the glass. Once she had enough of it gone, she began to climb down.

One the fourth floor of the hospital, Yuki Nagato, 2nd Year High School Class B, stared expressionless at the open door to her room. She had been the fourth person called. Yuki was a petite, childish looking girl with dyed purple hair in a bob cut. Big round glasses covered much of her cute face. Apparently coming to a decision, albeit with no flicker of emotion crossing her face, she stood and daintily moved to the bags across the room. She lifted them both, arms hanging at her sides so that the bags dragged along the ground, and walked out of the door. She was in a carpeted hallway. Across the hall was a maintenance closet, and directly to her left the hallway ended in a single wide window giving a view of the entire parking area below. There was also, next to the window, a chair. She sat down on it, lifted the large bag and unzipped it meticulously.

Inside was a 1995 model Snayperskaya Vintovka Dragunova, more commonly known as a Dragonov semi automatic sniper rifle. Four curved magazines, each with ten rounds, were also inside the bag. With a blank look, as if she was uncertain how such things worked, she inserted the magazine into the rifle with a click. Then she set it aside, leaning against the corner. She lifted up her school bag and opened it. Inside, there was nothing but books. Seated by the rifle and window, she opened a book and began to read.

**32 Students Remaining. **

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_Huh, I said I'd get these two chapers done by next friday... and then I wrote them both tonight. AFTER writing a chapter of my actual book. Well, it seems I'm on some sort of roll. _


	7. Chapter 6

**6**

Naruto Uzumaki, 1st Year Junior High Student, crept carefully out of the hospital room he had awoken in. In his clenched fist was a small hatchet with a six inch blade, the weapon he had been provided. Blonde hair, spiked, stuck up past the headband he always wore, over a face with a look of perpetual rakishness, as though he were preparing to play a prank on someone. This look did little to convey his actual emotions- inside, he was terrified, not as much of being killed, but of the possibility of his classmates actually _wanting _to kill him. Years of conscious decision to keep his face cheerful despite what he felt had taken over, so he was actually smiling when he stepped out into the hall.

For as long as he could remember, Naruto had been regarded with nothing but scorn and derision from all of his classmates, his teachers, even his fellow orphans at the State Boarding home where he lived. He didn't know why, but he thought it might have something to do with his parents- all he knew about them were that they had been arrested by the Greater East Asia Republic Secondary Police when he was barely a year old. After they're arrest, there had been no more official mention of them- no trial, no charges, not even a record of imprisonment or execution. Naruto guessed they were dead, and had not attempted to find out why; nothing good would come from asking those kind of questions.

The hallway he entered was painted a comforting teal color, painted with the occasional pink or yellow flower. Colorful artwork hung from the walls. Down the hall, he could see a pair of glass doors marked **Recreation Area.** He was in the children's wing, apparently. A window to the left showed he was on the ground floor. He decided to head for an exit, and get out of the hospital. More than anything, he wanted to avoid running into his classmates. He could see them clearly in his minds eye, face's scowling in annoyance, thinking _trash, scum,_ get away, out of our sight. He could imagine them with disturbing ease lifting a gun or a knife, shouting out that he would finally get what was coming to him. More than dying, he was frightened that they would hate him that much.

Grade School had been torture, every day nothing but slinking quietly through the halls, the weight of their hateful stares on his back, the teachers irritation livid on their faces at any word he spoke. When he'd made it to Junior High, he'd decided to change all of that. He didn't know why everyone hated him, but he wasn't going to just let it run it's course. He'd changed himself, going from a quiet, downtrodden child to an enthusiastic, exuberant prankster, making them laugh, even if he was the butt of the joke. Slowly, he'd witnessed others expressions changing. They still rolled eyes and groaned when he caught their attention, but now it was more often from irritation with his latest bit of clowning than with the mere fact of his existence. Not everyone looked at him with disgust in their eyes, as if he were some piece of filth that had accidentally been left out. Hinata Hyuga even laughed at his jokes, and that strange kid Yugi had even hung out with him a few times. Things were finally changing.

And now he was supposed to kill them all. The realization suddenly hit him. It wasn't just that they were trying to kill him. If he wanted to live, he would have to win this sick game. The cold metal collar on his neck suddenly seemed three times smaller, he sucked in breath, his hand shaking. He didn't want to kill anyone-

"Hey!" He shouted on impulse, without thinking. Up ahead, through the glass doors of the recreation area he had seen a sudden flash of movement- the swish of a tartan skirt. _A girl. _He thought. The hand clenched around his hatchet shook, his eyes wide. _What if she wants to kill me? _He thought. None of the girls in his class liked him, he knew that for sure. Still, when he thought of them individually- stoic Kino, always sitting with a wistful smile on her face, fiery Arumi, bookish Maka, tomboy Sora- he couldn't imagine any of them actually wanting to _kill _him. All at once, the horrible image of all his classmates with weapons raised melted away. It was ridiculous. No one was going to hurt him.

He smiled. He wouldn't let his fear rule him. He was going to go and talk to that girl, whoever she was, and tell her she didn't have anything to fear from him. He was pretty vague on what to do after that- he wasn't a very long term thinker- but he was certain that if he just did his best, he could somehow make it out of here without anyone dying. He'd save everyone, and then they wouldn't hate him anymore. He'd do it, no matter what. You can believe it.

He trotted quickly down the hall.

The recreation center was dark, a wide open space of shadows and dark gaping holes where the storage closets opened at the end of the room. There were no windows here, being near the center of the building, and the only light came from the sparse emergency lights, which provided only enough light to form tiny pools of lesser darkness between the rivers of true darkness. Soft mats crunched underfoot. In the nearest corner, dozens of dead eyes stared at him from the pile of stuffed animals strewn about by some long gone child. He stared for a moment at a particular doll which disturbed him for some unexplainable reason- it was an orange fox, and it's throat was damaged, tiny bits of stuffing hanging out of a wire thin tear.

"Hey!" He shouted again. His voice, loud and unrestrained, carried far in the black room. "Come out! I'm not gonna hurt you! It's me, Naruto!" He stopped, wondering if that was exactly the best thing to say in this situation. Oh well, he'd already done it. Holding the hatchet loosely, so as not to appear threatening, he walked forward, looking for the girl he'd thought he saw. The room was entirely silent. He wandered through it, seeing no one, and started to think he must have imagined it. Then, suddenly, he heard a slight noise, a foot stepping lightly on the mat behind him. He turned around in time to see a slightly older girl stepping back, her hands disappearing behind her back.

She looked about fourteen, but seemed subtly older, somehow mature. Her face was lightly shaded by subtle makeup, a choice which surely would have earned the disapproval of most of the female population of her class. Her hair was black, pulled up in a simple knot behind her head with a few strands hanging out in front. Arms crossed behind her back, dressed in sailor suit and tartan skirt, with a look of worry on her face, she gave off the impression of innocent insecurity.

"Azula, right?" Naruto said. She was older than him, but he had seen her in the other class, and had heard even more about her. Together with two other girls, she had a reputation as one of the most delinquent of students in the school, and there were a good deal of rumors circulating about her after school actions. Naruto put all of that out of his mind though- being a delinquent was one thing, killing was something else entirely. Naruto was a delinquent- though a harmless one- himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…sneak up on you." She said, biting her lip awkwardly. "I was…scared."

"Don't worry!" He answered. "Like I said, I don't want to hurt anyone. Um… are you alone in here?" He glanced around.

"Yes. I mean I was. You're here now." She said, watching him with a strange look in her eye. He wasn't sure what it was, but then he realized- she was actually relieved to see him. The thought threw him off.

"Um, that's right. I'm here. Don't worry, Naruto Uzumaki isn't gonna let anything happen to you." He said, smiling. "Do you have a weapon?" She shook here head.

"My bag…didn't have anything…"

"Well then, you just stay behind me then, and I'll protect you!" "Do- do you promise?" She asked. His feelings soared. She was actually willing to stay with him. She looked so relieved.

"Sure, I promise. I never break a promise." He thought that was pretty cool thing to say.

"Thanks." She said. "I'm lucky to have found you. To tell you the truth, I've always thought it was horrible how everyone treats you at school. It's the same with me. They all think I'm such a bad girl just because I've stolen a few things…" Naruto grinned wider, and turned away, walking while he talked. He found it uncomfortable standing still.

"Yeah, I always thought you had to be different than they all said. People don't really pay attention to what a person is really like and- er?" She had reached out and laid both hands lightly on his shoulders from behind. He stopped, frozen.

"Naruto…I'm really glad it was you who found me." She said, stepping closer. His grin widened.

"Haha, me too, I- argh….ugh…" He stopped in mid sentence, suddenly choking. The hatchet dropped from his hand and his hands snapped to his neck. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. Something tight was winding around his neck. _The collar! _He thought, unable to think of anything else. _Its…choking…_His vision went dark. He felt the skin of his throat break, blood bubbled up and ran down his chest. His fingers scraped against his neck, found the collar- it was the same size as before, and below the spot that was painfully tightening. His fingers crawled up, blind and shaking, and touched a piece of cold wire twisting into his neck. _Wire…why…_He slumped forward, motionless. The twisting continued for a minute and a half, then his body dropped to the floor limply.

Behind him, Azula smiled, radiating cold amusement. In her hand was a long piece of steel piano wire, each end attached to little handles. Blood stained the silvery thread. She nudged his body his her toe, felt no response, and laughed.

"Idiot."

**31 Students Remaining. **


	8. Chapter 7

**7**

Kagami Hiiragi, Female Student and Class Representative of Class A, High School Year One, glared up at the corridor's corner with a look of scorn. In the corner, hanging innocuously like a lazy bat on a cave ceiling, was a small circular camera. A tiny red light next to the lens was blinking, over and over. They were watching her, of course. That was the whole point of these things. But she felt that somehow the cameras should be hidden, not so blatant. It was like they were mocking them. Outwardly, Kagami had the same scolding glare she'd give her friend Konata when she asked to copy her homework, but her eye twitched, holding back a tear. It all seemed so pointless…

There was a crash from down the hall, and she whipped around, her petite frame curled up like a cowering mouse in a corner, helpless and fragile, but ready to bite back. There was no sign of anything from down the dark hallway, only dust motes spinning through the air through the glow provided by the occasional rectangles of light. Her hands curled up in front of her instinctively, and she felt the weight in them reminding her of the weapon she held- a silvery large pistol, semiautomatic, loaded with a full magazine of 9mm bullets, and-to her inexperienced mind-very heavy. She'd played enough shooting games to know what sort of gun it was- a Browning Hi-Powered, to be exact-but she'd certainly never planned on holding one in real life… _Come on, Kagami, you've got to at least put your finger on the trigger. _Her inner voice clamored, just as insistent as if she were railing at a friend.

There was no movement still. Whatever had made the crash had probably been from a lower floor. Kagami herself was on the top floor (as had been obvious from her starting room's window), so at least she would be less likely to run into anyone up here. _Yeah, and if you _do _run into anyone, you won't have any place to run will you? _She told herself, and gritted her teeth. Turning away from the far off crash, she continued down the path, until she reached a cross roads. Behind her was the hall she had come down- a typical hospital corridor of rooms, a plate on the wall had designated it as a Long Term Condition Ward (she'd wondered if they had chosen the fourth floor so as to give the long-timers a nice view-seemed like a typical sort of hospital sense, well-meaning but ultimately useless). To her right was a large waiting room, dark but for the glow of a single ceiling light, spawning pitch black shadows between the cushions of every chair, shining reflections on the metal doors of the elevators at the end. Her eyes glanced over the room methodically, carefully checking each spot where a dark figure might be crouching. Kagami was probably the least likely person to imagine in a situation like this (_of course, that's probably what everyone thinks) _but she had always had a sharp, analytical mind, and it was automatically treating this as she would a school problem. It was a good thing her brain was acting so logically, because her legs were shaking and her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she thought it would burst.

Having concluded there was no one skulking in the darkness, she checked the passage to the left (which, she automatically noted, was facing north, which was towards the _front _of the hospital). The corridor was short, running past a pair of women's and men's restrooms, then ending in a pair of double doors with windows. A sign next to the door read **Rehabilitation Center. **And ahead of her-

"Reeh!" She squeaked (a sound effect which would have embarrassed her immensely if enacted in a somewhat more mundane setting) and dropped quickly to the floor behind the information counter in front of the waiting room. Down the carpeted hallway directly ahead of her, at the very end of the hall, she'd seen a figure silhouetted against a window revealing the rising sun. The figure hadn't moved at all, which is why she hadn't noticed it before. _M-maybe your just imagining things…_She thought. She raised her head minutely above the counter's surface.

She hadn't been imagining things. Sitting at the far end of the hall (a little short of a hundred yards away), a small figure was lurking in front of the window. Very small. She blinked, reasoning it out, then realized that, whoever it was, they had to be sitting down, probably in a chair. The figure's hand's moved methodically, like a machine, in a familiar manner. Light shone the glasses on her down turned face. The distant sunlight colored her deep violet hair.

_That must be Yuki Nagato. _Kagami realized. She knew the girl, at least a little- she was in the same class as Tsukasa, Kagami's twin sister. Kagami always visited the class at lunch to eat with her friends (whom she never ended up in the same class with, for some reason), and had seen her sitting quietly in the corner, pretty little face always stuck in a book. _Is that what she's doing now? Reading? At a time like this? _Kagami wondered. She hovered there in mid crouch, weighing her options. She knew Yuki-not well, of course, but she didn't think _anyone _knew Yuki _well. _She could go and talk to her, maybe ask her if she'd seen Tsukasa… (when she'd seen that familiar face-so close to her own if inverted in expression-on the TV, she'd almost collapsed. It was unthinkable for _both _of them to be dragged into this horrible game, when they weren't even in the same class. When she thought of her mother and father, and their four other sisters back home, what they must be thinking now…) Kagami started to rise, then stopped abruptly.

Leaning against the wall next to Yuki Nagato, within easy reach, was a long rifle. Kagami gulped. To reach her, she'd have to walk down an open hallway nearly a hundred yards long, framed by the light of the cross road behind her, while Yuki sat there next to a weapon excelling in both killing power and deadly accuracy. She wasn't afraid of a girl like Yuki- she'd always thought her the harmless eccentric type, tragically unable to connect with anyone, but no more dangerous than a blind kitten. Even so, with that rifle, and in this situation…well, you never really knew did you? People…people were so complicated. Even someone like Konata, her best friend since grade school, whom she knew so well she could predict half the words that came out of her mouth (to they're mutual irritation), she couldn't even imagine what she'd do in a situation like this. _I don't even know what _I'm _doing. _She thought. No, it was best to leave the girl to her book. She turned around, keeping down low, and began to creep back the way she had came. There was a stairwell back that way… maybe she'd find Tsukasa on another floor.

At that moment, two things happened at once.

A figure in the darkness, sneaking up from behind her, suddenly lurched forward, only ten yards away.

To her left, at the end of the waiting room, the elevator's up arrow turned orange.

"Aagh!" The lurching figure, far from menacing, collapsed forward with a resounding crash. Kagami sighed in relief, lowering her gun. She'd know that panicky cry anywhere. _Clumsy as ever, Tsukasa. _She thought. She glanced to the left- the elevator was definitely rising. They had to get out of here fast. She trotted quickly over to her fallen sister, who was struggling to her feet, wide, slightly glazed eyes blinking back tears at the sight of her. She opened her mouth, no doubt to shout a joyous greeting, but Kagami put a finger to her lips and hissed for her to be quiet.

"But…sis…what's going…?" Tsukasa whispered. Kagami grabbed her shoulders and lifted her to her feet- her eyes went wide when she saw what was in her sisters hands. It was a Claymore, a motion sensing anti-personnel mine. Definitely not the sort of thing she should be holding onto. In response to her question, she gestured towards the waiting room.

"Someone's coming up the elevator." She whispered back. Tsukasa went nearly blue with fear- this was a girl who actually got scared at the school festival spook houses. "Come on. We're going to hide." Kagami said. She pointed towards the door to the Rehab Center and lightly pushed Tsukasa towards it. Thinking quickly, she reached up to one of her long twin pigtails and yanked out the ribbon holding it in place. She tossed it into the middle of the floor, back the way Tsukasa had come. With any luck, if the elevator rider was, well, _hunting _people they'd see it and think someone had gone that way. And if they went the other way…well, Yuki had that big rifle…

Tsukasa and Kagami crouched quietly behind the door to the rehab center just as it swung shut. She heard a faint _ching _from outside-the elevator had arrived. Tsukasa clung to her as she moved away from the door. Ahead, the rehab room was a large area full of equipment, with a mirror taking up one wall, much like a dance studio. To the left, another door led to a room titled **Rehabilitation Pool. **They crept that way. From outside the door, she could hear faint footsteps clacking on the tile floor. They did not stop at the crossroads, but kept coming onward. _But, the ribbon! _Her inner voice protested. For whatever reason, the mystery walker was heading straight for them.

They ran for the side door, past a small locker room for changing, and into the pool area. The pool was quite small, only five feet deep and about twelve by twelve square. There was no other exit, and nowhere to hide. Tsukasa began to make a quiet, high pitched squeal of terror. Kagami glanced at the Claymore in her hands- they could put it in front of the entrance, and when it opened it would explode, turning the wooden door into so much shrapnel. _But what if it's not someone trying to kill us? What if it's someone we know? _The faces of her classmates, and those unknown to her but seen briefly on the TV screen, flashed rapidly in front of her eyes. Some of them had been so young, just little kids…

"Alright…Tsukasa, you go stand in the corner there." She pointed, to the corner directly to the entrance's right. "I'll stand in the corner over there." She pointed to the corner across the pool, directly opposite the door, where she'd have a clear view of whoever came in. At least that way, Tsukasa would stay out of it.

"Kagami?" Tsukasa asked, eyes wet with tears. "Is it going to be alright?" Kagami forced herself to smile.

"Of course it is. No one really wants to kill anyone right? They're probably just looking for someone to join up with…" She trailed off. The door to the locker room had opened. Footsteps echoed. _How do they know? _She thought wildly. _It's like they can smell us or something…_

She rushed to take up her position. Tsukasa cowered alone in her corner. She stared at the opposite door. It had no window. The footsteps stopped behind it.

Kagami took a breath.

Bits of wood burst out of the door, a shockingly loud explosion of sound streamed out, a sound like an amplified typewriter. Through the quickly disintegrating wood, she could see the figure of ghostly pale girl firing a machine gun, straight through the door. _How did she know-?_ Her thoughts blew apart at the sudden shock of pain, like a heavy fist slammed into her gut. Two more followed, in her right shoulder. The gun dropped out of her limp arm. She tottered forward and fell with a crash. Her face lay on the cool linoleum floor, and she could see a dark liquid flowing away from her, towards the pools clear water. The figure behind the door pulled away, vanishing. The noise stopped.

Tsukasa screamed.

"KAGAMI!"

"Stay there!" She choked out. Agony shoved her down, tried to force her back to the floor, but Kagami shakily got to her knees. She glanced around, wondering why half of her vision was painted with red. She rubbed a finger across her eye, and the blood came away. It was streaming down from her forehead where she'd hit the floor. A lot more of it was leaking from her stomach.

Gasping, she located the gun, and grabbed at it like it a drowning girl to a life preserver. She aimed wildly at the door and pulled the trigger twice- the recoil made her cry out in pain, and she nearly dropped it again. Slowly, trailing a line of blood across the floor, she crawled around the pool. She had to get to Tsukasa. _Take care of Tsukasa…that's what I have to…that's what I always do… my little…sister…_Her thoughts were becoming confused. She crawled ahead, and suddenly found herself being cradled in her sisters arm's. Warm tears fell onto her face, washing the blood away.

"Have to…use the mine…" She tried to tell her. Tsukasa only sobbed, clutching her tight. _She's getting my blood on her. _She thought pointlessly.

"Sis…I…" Whatever Tsukasa was trying to say was good short. The typewriter roar of the machine gun rose up again. Kagami swung the gun toward the door- but no one was there. The bullets tore through the thin plaster between their room and the locker room, shredding both of them where they lay on the floor. Tsukasa collapsed on top of her, and Kagami felt the last of her strange slipping away as she put her arms around her. _Tsukasa, I- _

**29 Students Remaining. **

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_Lol, I got Tsukasa's name wrong.... guess it shows she's not really a favorite of mine. _


End file.
